


that far off dream

by starmocha (108am)



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M, Guilt, Memories, Reflection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-04
Updated: 2015-11-04
Packaged: 2018-04-30 00:52:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5144282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/108am/pseuds/starmocha
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was surreal, Jemma thought as she tried to adjust to life back on Earth.</p>
            </blockquote>





	that far off dream

**Author's Note:**

> I don’t know why this was so hard to write, so forgive me if it seems very incoherent.

_It was surreal_ , Jemma thought as she tried to adjust to life back on Earth. Meeting alien creatures and artifacts were one thing, but being stranded on a hostile alien planet for over six months was another.

Letting out a deep sigh, she slowly stripped her clothes and turned on the shower. She winced, finding the sound to be louder than she remembered. After a moment of trying to adjust to the sound, Jemma stepped under the warm rushing water, letting it wash away the dirt and grime that covered her. She stared at the tiled wall, mind hazy with a conversation not so long ago.

_Eat, shower, or sleep? What are you gonna do first when we get back?_

_Eat. Please. Who you talking to? What’re you gonna do?_

_Um, I’m gonna eat in the shower and fall asleep while doing it._

_That's very efficient. I expect nothing less._

She let out a short laugh that was devoid of all amusement. The conversation replayed in her mind again countless times, and it wasn’t long before it took a toll on her. She covered her mouth with one hand, trying hard to suppress the sob that threatened to rise. She could feel the onset of hot tears ready to fall.

“I’m not eating, Will,” she sobbed, “How can I? I’m so sorry, Will.”

After a few more minutes in the shower, she stepped out to wrap a dry towel around herself. She grabbed another towel and began to dry her hair, but halfway through the process she stopped when the sight of her dirty clothes caught her eyes. She stared at the musky, shredded garments for a while before she stepped closer, falling to her knees to pick them up.

She held them in her hands for a long time as she thought back to her time on that planet. She thought of her long trek across the unknown land, her fight with the tentacle plant, and then of him.

He was nothing. No, that wasn’t right. He was a human, like her. Trapped, like her. Trapped.

“Still,” she whispered, eyes still boring holes into the clothes.

Just another person. Just someone to—

_I'll be the voice of hope. You'll be the voice of doom._

“To keep each other in check.”

Jemma laughed emptily again, because she didn’t know what else to do.

They were working for the same goal: to return home to Earth. They did everything within their powers and in the end, they fell short just by a bit. It tore her apart to know that home was just beyond her reach, but he kept her grounded, helped her deal with the pain.

She was growing used to the idea of him and her. The banters, the dependence on one another, the kisses, the caresses, just _them_.

 _We would have been good for one another_ , she thought, fingering the tattered clothes tenderly.

A sad smile found its way to her face as she thought of the sunrise they should have seen together.

_Yes, you can make it. Go!_

She dropped her clothes and covered her ears, still hearing that terrible gunshot resounding in her head. She begged silently for the noise to go away, but the sound replayed over and over again, almost as if it enjoyed taunting her. Why didn’t she grab his hand when they were running? Why did _It_ have to appear then? Why was she safe and he was not? He was alive, right? No, of course he was alive. He was stronger than that.

It seemed so easy to ask the questions now when she had nothing but time to reflect on her life on that planet. Lowering her hands, she wiped away the trickle of tears staining her face. Slowly she stood up and got dressed again.

“I’m going to bring you home, Will.”


End file.
